Stay
by FarieTyrant
Summary: Hermione is the Chosen One. It's up to her to save the world, with her friends by her and the evils against her, will she live? With help from the wise one, the cunning one, the honored one, the warrior and the dark one; Hermione must realize her destiny.


Lucius sat from behind a building one hundred feet from where Miss Granger was saying goodbye to the young man she had been having a pleasant night with. She wouldn't call the young man back.

He watched her as she made her way through the back alleys, finding her way back to her two bed room flat she shared with the other two thirds of her whole. His eyes flew about fifty feet in front of her, the two creatures he'd hired to kill her hide behind two dumpsters. He knew they probably wouldn't succeed, but besides the sport, he wanted to study her tact.

------------------------------------------

Hermione suddenly stopped and the hairs on her neck prickled. She shook it off but slipped her wand into her hand from its holder strapped to her wrist. She cross her arms over her chest and continued to walk. She wore a white turtle neck, jean jacket, and a black skirt with matching boots. Her hair was pulled into a pony tail against the wind.

She looked up and saw the full moon, thanking for the light she received. _Curse my fetish for skirts and back alleys._ She thought to herself. She jumped back as two forms jumped from behind a dumpster. She jumped back and braced herself, wielding her wand over her head.

"Hello, little child," one of them cooed, "A little cold isn't it?" He walked forward into the moonlight and Hermione immediately knew what she was facing.

Vampires.

Hermione hated vampires with a passion. She was disgusted by them and during the uprising of vampires there had been after the Dark Lords demise, Hermione had put quite a few of them to the stake. Ronald had named her 'Hermione the Vampire Slayer'.

"Oh come on," Hermione said, changing her stance by gripping her wand like a knife, it doubled quite nicely as a stake. "I know what you two are, bring it." She motioned her hand and the two of them flew at her.

For some reason, after Ron had put a strength enhancing charm on her and gave her a strength enhancing potion, the effects never fully wore off. No one could see why, and all Madame Pomfrey could guess was because so much adrenaline had been pumping, her body had started replicating it. Hermione had no problem with it, she just had to be super careful around other people, being that she still looked very delicate on the outside

Hermione quickly flung one over her shoulder at a dumpster behind her, she kicked out the legs of the second one and quickly took advantage of the placement and plunged the stake in its chest, turning him to ash with a scream. She laughed dryly and the first one grabbed her from behind and threw her against the pile of garbage bags.

She saw him running at her and quickly kicked him in the chest with both legs and threw herself up with the momentum. He came at her again and she punched him in the gut and slammed him in the back when he lent over, sending him to the ground.

She plunged the stake in his back, "Oops, wrong side," she quickly stabbed him in the other side and he turned to dust. "Losers."

She slipped the wand back into her sleeve, and frowned at her dusty clothes, "I think some vampire mob boss has something out for me." She said aloud and continued her way home.

------------------------------------------

Lucius smiled at her retreating figure, his tongue running over his front teeth, "You have no idea, Miss Granger. You have no idea." He shoved his hands into his leather jackets pockets, and turned to walk against the wind. It wasn't too long until he got to the cemetery.

He walked his way to the Malfoy Crypt, where his body used to lay, during his sleep period of six months. Everyone who mattered thought he was dead, and he was happy with that. After he had went through the trouble of breaking out of his marble wall coffin magicless, he felt it was better that no one knew.

He walked into the front of the mausoleum, and sauntered down the white marble steps, passing all the separate rooms of burial each Malfoy was accustomed to. The crypt was bewitched to have as many burial chambers as many Malfoys walked the Earth. He had made his burial chamber his own personal room, complete with a bed, muggle style TV, bottles of fire whiskey, Persian rugs, a freezer, a heating plate, and a half decent couch.

The walls were adorned with scenes from the ocean, as pre-designated in his will along with the Persian rugs. He had to bring the rest down him self. He thanked whoever created the tradition of placing the wand outside the tomb, built into the wall of the burial chamber. Most of his clothing consisted of black and green shirts and dark colored jeans that were hung on the walls in various fashions.

He finally came to his own tomb and bewitched it open and closed it, glancing briefly at Draco and Narcissa's empty chambers. It was almost four in the morning and he wondered briefly why the Mudblood was even out at this hour.

He lay himself down on his green adorned full size bed and stare up at his ceiling he had bewitched to show the real sky, with no nasty side effects of the real weather. The stars had started to fade and to the left was a tinge pink.

He fell asleep for the day.

------------------------------------------

Hermione woke at six, like she did every day and threw herself out of bed. She shrugged her cotton robe over her nightie and walked out into the living room. She knew the boys were still asleep from the snoring she heard, so she decided to make breakfast.

She twisted her hair up and pinned it in place with a stray pen. She got the bowls out of the cupboard and spoons from the drawer and place three spots on the table. She then pulled out the cereal boxes and set them on the table along with the jug of milk, placing a chilling charm on it. She placed her hands on her hips and nodded in satisfaction.

"One perfectly made breakfast." She smiled and went to the linen cabinet, withdrawing a towel, washrag, and her green bag of toiletries next to Ron and Harry's red and gold ones. She thought she'd get the sparkly gold one, but Ron refused the Slytherin color. Shows a lot about his character.

She walked to the bathroom and placed her stuff on the closed toilet. She gripped the sink and looked in the mirror, stretching her face in abstract ways before getting her tooth brush and toothpaste. She spit and smiled, tugging the pen out of her hair and letting her mane fall around her shoulders. She got her muggle flat iron out of under the sink and plugged it in, putting it on it's highest setting. She disrobed and stepped into the shower, turning it on as she went.

The primarily the cold water jolted whatever part of her body that was still asleep into action, as it slowly warmed she enjoyed herself for a few moments and got on with her shower.

After she finished she hit the dial a little too hard, jamming it back in the wall, "Damnit, not again." She mumbled, jerking the little metal piece out of the cracked molding. "Oh well," she hmphed, "Harry'll fix it." She wrapped herself in her towel and put all of her citrus smelling pleasantries in her bag, and stepped out of the bathroom to see two wizards staring at her.

"You broke it again, didn't you?" Harry drawled out.

"Not _completely_." She smiled innocently, "I made you guys breakfast…" she tried.

"You set out cereal…" Ron said in a dumb voice.

"Which is breakfast!" She piped, "Brrrr….I'm cold…I better go get clothes on…"She ran past them and into her room. She shook her dripping hair and shot up, remembering.

"You left your flat iron in here. On." Harry called.

"I know!" she called back, "_Accio_ flat iron." It flew in her room and plugged itself in next to her dresser. She towel dried her hair and chose her outfit for the day. A red drape shirt that hugged her waist, blue jeans tucked into black boots and a black leather jacket. It took her not ten minutes to straighten her hair more or less, she liked the half wavy mess when down.

"You also left your wash rag in there." Ron said coming out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I don't want to know if you rubbed it all over your body." She said immediately, passing him.

"Good, cause I wasn't going to tell you." He laughed at her mock disgusted sound. "Where you heading off to?"

"Out." She called, fastening her wand ejector to her wrist, then pulling her sleeve down.

"You seem to be going there a lot lately." He commented.

"It's a fun place, you should try it sometime."

"I don't think Ron likes boys that way," Harry called from the couch.

"You don't know Ron as well as I do, Harry," she dodged Rons' toiletry bag, "See you guys later!" She shoved her hands into her pockets and slammed the door a little too hard.

Only by accident, of course.

------------------------------------------

Hermione stood outside a building in downtown and pressed the buzzer for the fifth time. She heard the responding intercom be struggled with and heard a crackly and annoyed, "Yes?"

"It's me, let me in."

"I'm sorry, I know a lot of me's. And a few I don't want to let in. Please specify." the voice coughed and waited.

"The sexy one with curly brown hair?" she tried.

"Exactly the one I didn't want to let in." the voice drawled.

"Oh come on. Toby Toby Toby Toby Toby Toby!!!!!!" She said very quickly and the line went dead. She quickly pressed the buzzer rapidly and had counted to thirty two until she heard the opener buzzer to the front door.

"I hate you." She heard out of the intercom, which made her smile.

She made her way up to the seventh floor to room thirteen and opened the door, inside the only illumination was from a very bright floor lamp. The windows had been covered in a thick layer of black paint with black out curtains over them. Books lay strewn about everywhere, and a rather snarky looking wizard sat in a green armchair with a book propped open on his lap.

Greasy hair hung around a sallow face adorned with beady black eyes and a hooked nose. "_What _do you want?" He snapped at her.

"Why are you so ill?" he only glared at him, "Is it because I called you Toby? I think it fits you-" she dodged out of the way of the book flying at her head. "Gosh, alright Professor…"

"_Severus…_" the man drawled, calling his book back to him. "How many times must I remind you?" he pinched the bridge of his nose and sneered.

Hermione walked over to his kitchenette, "Ahh!" she exclaimed, seeing the simmering red liquid, "That's why you're cranky." She pulled the thermometer out and glanced at it, "You like it around ninety six, right?" He gave a sound of agreement and she with drew his black coffee mug from the cabinet and poured the liquid into it, putting the simmer pan on the back burner and turned off the oven.

She walked carefully over to her old professor and handed him the drink, of which he drank deeply. "Do you feel better now?" She asked, kneeling in front of him, placing a hand on the arm of the chair.

"Much." He commented and drank deeply. Hermione watched his throat muscles, and couldn't help noticing the horrid scars on his neck. She looked away, "Can't stomach it, Gryffindor?"

"That's not it, I just - never mind." Hermione cut herself off and turned, sitting on the arm of the chair, leaning over to see what he was reading, unseen he sneered at her, amusement playing in his eyes. "I never thought you to be one for prophecies and fortune telling," Hermione scoffed.

"I'm not, and neither are you. But this is one I believe we are part of. It makes plenty of sense." He flipped to the beginning of the chapter. It read 'The Chosen One'.

"Sounds mysterious…" Hermione mocked.

"I'm serious Hermione." She laughed, "_'In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer. She will be aided by a wise one, the cunning one, the honored one, the warrior, and the dark one. '_Come on now, place the names." He ordered Hermione.

"Well… Honored is obviously Harry, cunning would be… Draco. The warrior would have to be Ronald. The wise one would be me."

"No, you are the Chosen One. Who else?"

"Well, I have no idea, I mean everyone else I know is really stupid. Ow!" Snape had pushed her to the ground, "That was uncalled for. You must be the wise one! Oh, omniscient TOBY!"

"Yes, but who is the Dark one?" he stroked his chin.

"So, you're telling me I'm some Chosen One?" Hermione quipped and then laughed.

"In laymen's terms, you're known as the Vampire Slayer." Immediately Hermione stopped laughing. "I push a button?"

She immediately pushed her self up, "Give me that." She took the volume and started flipping through it. "'_She would defy death two times._' I died twice when I was little. Once by an asthma attack, and again by almost drowning. My heart stopped both times." She continued to flip through, "'_Her strength would defy men's own on her nineteenth cycle, undercover of those around her._' Hermione dropped the book and looked up, "I was administered the strength charm and potion on my nineteenth birthday. Holy shit."

"Language, Miss Granger!" he snapped.


End file.
